


fulfillment

by sunshine_captain



Series: contentment [2]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: (only briefly- I'm sorry!), Chubby!Kirk, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Mother Hen Spock, Pet Names, Protective Spock (Star Trek), Romance, Sehlats (Star Trek), T'hy'la, Vacation, Vulcan, old married spirk, oms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 08:28:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18735334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshine_captain/pseuds/sunshine_captain
Summary: Jim and Spock take their vacation on Vulcan. Sequel to indulgent.





	fulfillment

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to indulgent. I recommend reading that first, but if you don't want to, all you need to know is that Jim and Spock are old and in love, and they take a vacation on Vulcan.
> 
> I had way too much fun writing this, and it probably shows. Hope everyone enjoys it!

Their hotel is unexpectedly luxurious. Jim didn't expect to find anything like this on Vulcan.

"You _can't_ tell me this is logical," he says, moments after diving onto their absurdly large bed, which is covered with incredibly soft, clean sheets.

"This hotel is regarded largely as being for tourists. It caters to outworlders first and foremost." Spock puts their bags down and immediately starts unpacking, putting his and Jim's clothes into the closet and dresser, neatly hung and folded.

"Spock, no, come here!" Jim sits up, dismayed. Why must Spock be so tidy? Jim wants to wallow with him in luxury and pleasure, not watch him do ordinary household chores.

They're on vacation, for God's sake.

Spock sets down the pair of jeans he was about to hang, and obediently comes to stand by the side of the bed. "Yes, Jim?"

"Down here." Jim pats the mattress on either side of him invitingly. It's huge, more than big enough to accommodate the two of them. It must be twice as big as their bed at home. "Come keep me company."

Spock huffs, but obligingly crawls onto the bed. As soon as he's halfway on, Jim latches onto him and rolls them until he's on top.

"This was such a great idea you had," he purrs into Spock's ear, kissing the flushed point. "We needed a vacation, some time out for the two of us, no distractions."

He's in the process of unsealing Spock's robe when it starts vibrating. Jim draws back, blinking, and Spock produces his communicator from a pocket.

"It is my father," he informs Jim.

"Definitely do _not_ answer it." Jim is unbuttoning his shirt, eager to get his skin against Spock's. 

“Jim.”

“No, Spock.” He strips off the t-shirt he was wearing under his flannel and sits up, knowing he’s a temptation to Spock like that, half bare and just waiting to be touched. “Sarek is great, but you can talk to him later. I’m sure he just wants to make sure we got to the hotel okay.”

Spock’s desire is such that he doesn’t even protest that Sarek wouldn’t show such obviously emotional concern. He casts the communicator aside and draws Jim down so that he can reach his mouth, kissing him deeply.

His hands are all over Jim, stroking over the curve of his spine, pushing down the back of his jeans to squeeze his ass.

Jim murmurs happily as Spock switches their position, pressing Jim gently into the mattress and shrugging off his robe, pulling at Jim’s jeans. Jim squirms cooperatively, gasping out a breathy, “Spock,” as Spock gets impatient with the jeans around his ankles and kisses Jim’s belly, rubs his cheek against Jim’s hard cock.

Jim feels Spock’s warm breath on him, wiggles again eagerly. “Yes, yes, Spock--”

“Spock?”

Both of them freeze. Too late, Jim feels the lump under his lower back. Spock’s communicator, the source of Sarek’s voice.

”I wished to confirm that you reached your destination. I trust you and Jim are well.” Pause. Jim and Spock are barely daring to breathe. “Spock?”

Mortified, Jim sits up and hands the communicator to Spock.

“Yes, Father.”

“So you are there. I was beginning to think that there was an error with your communicator.”

“No, it is functioning correctly.”

“Then why the delay?” Another pause. “Ah. Hello, Jim.”

“Hi, Sarek.”

“We may speak later, Spock. Live long and prosper.” There’s an amused note in Sarek’s voice as he ends the call, leaving no doubt he quickly caught on to the situation.

Jim snorts out a laugh and falls back onto the bed, covering his eyes with an arm as he cracks up. His jeans are still around his ankles, and that only adds to the hilarity of the moment. Spock is naked, sitting there staring at the communicator with an expression of undisguised horror, his ears violently green.

When he stops laughing, Jim sits up and nudges Spock with his shoulder, finally kicking off his jeans and underwear. “It’s okay, Spock. Stop freaking out.”

“I am not freaking out.”

“Yeah, you are.” He nudges Spock again, harder. The mood is killed, to say the least. Jim is thoroughly soft, but he’s grinning. “It’s not like Sarek didn’t _know_ that we,” he sees Spock’s expression and changes topics quickly. “Let’s finish unpacking and then go find a nice restaurant for dinner.”

Spock accepts the logic of his suggestion, getting up and putting his robe back on. Jim goes about his own tasks undressed, getting a raised eyebrow and pulse of amusement through the bond.

They find a nice Vulcan-Terran fusion restaurant and sample some interesting Vulcan takes on Earth dishes, and vice versa. They get back to their hotel, make sure that all their communication devices are switched firmly _off_ (Jim snickering and Spock smiling in response, finally seeing the humor of the situation), then make love with the curtains open and the moonless night of Vulcan filling the room.

*

Jim is about to plunge into the water, when he pauses and glances back at Spock. "There are no sharks on Vulcan, are there?"

"No, Jim, although there is a medium sized species of carnivore similar in appearance to a Terran starfish."

Jim tries to picture that and fails. Chuckling, he wades in. "If anything grabs me with suckers, I'll be relying on you to Vulcan nerve pinch it, okay?"

"Truthfully, I am unsure if the maneuver would work on a terpauk, as it does not have a cluster of nerves such as that on humanoids' necks." Spock spreads out the towel they brought on the rocky beach and seats himself.

"I can always treat it like a shark, and punch it in the nose." The water is so warm it feels more like being in a bath than in the sea.

"They do not have noses."

Jim laughs and ducks his head under the water, relishing how cool the air feels when he comes back up, shaking droplets out of his hair like a dog. "Then I'll scream for you and you can carry me out of danger like a big, strong Vulcan warrior."

"I suppose I can do that if I must, if my bondmate defies the odds and meets a terpauk. They are rare in shallow water, and unlikely to attack a creature as large as you."

"Commentary on my weight? I thought better of you." Jim dips back down into the water and then wades ashore, hair dripping as he stalks toward Spock.

Spock's eyes widen slightly as he realizes what Jim is intending, but too late to get away. Standing over him, Jim shakes his head violently, splattering Spock with water. When he's done, he laughs at how _adorable_ Spock is, dressed in shorts and one of Jim's t-shirts, shell shocked expression on his face.

Spock's payback is swift; he pulls Jim to the ground and climbs aboard, clever fingers finding all of Jim's ticklish spots, batting Jim's hands aside as he tries to defend himself.

"Spock, no, no," Jim yells through his helpless laughter. He _hates_ being tickled, Spock is evil. "Stop, I'm sorry!"

Spock subsides and merely lays on Jim, gazing fondly at him as Jim tries to regain his composure.

"I didn't deserve _that_ , did I?" Jim props himself on his elbows and bumps his nose against Spock's, brushes their lips together briefly.

"That and more, but I was merciful." Spock sits up, perched on Jim's thighs and trying (failing) to look prim with sand all over him. He puts his hands on Jim's belly (covered with a shirt, a necessity because of the Vulcan sun, though Jim hates swimming with a shirt on. "I adore your body, Jim. You know I would never speak ill of your physique. You are beautiful, in all your softness."

"Soft? That is not what a guy wants to hear," Jim scoffs, without heat. He lays where he is and watches contently as Spock pushes his hands under the shirt, stroking his belly, squeezing the plump flesh at his waist. He knows very well how much Spock likes him at any weight. "Come swim with me, sweetheart. Wash this sand off."

"I do not enjoy being immersed in water."

Despite this, Spock stands up and pulls Jim up after him, follows him into the water, and doesn't resist when Jim takes his hand and drags him out deep enough that they have to tread water.

Spock floats and watches Jim swim, dive under and resurface, spit a fountain of water through the air with only a half hearted complaint about it being unsanitary.

Jim frolics until he decides Spock is too lonely and unattended. He leads them to shallow water again, then puts his arms around his husband and kisses him. Spock returns it wholeheartedly.

They topple back down to the sand, and this time, they stay down for much longer.

*

The thing about Spock is that he’s a cuddler. He’s been a cuddler from day one. Jim knows that when Spock sleeps by himself he rises early and often meditates or starts working hours before he needs to, but when they’re together and Spock sleeps (instead of pulling the “Vulcans need less sleep” card, which according to Bones’ expertise and Jim’s experience is more bullshit than reality), he crashes _hard_ and doesn’t want to get up or relinquish Jim any earlier than usual.

Jim wakes up ensnared in a Spock embrace as usual, Spock’s arms around him, one leg hitched over Jim’s hip. Jim wiggles free with difficulty and goes to shower. The bathroom has an enormous tub, which Jim definitely wants to investigate, but not this morning. They’re supposed to go hiking today, on the rocky trails overlooking the Voroth sea.

He hasn’t gone rockclimbing yet, either, but that’s okay. They have five days left here. Plenty of time.

When he comes out of the bathroom, toweling his hair off, Spock is not only still asleep but has burrito-ed himself in the blanket, only his head visible. He’s breathing loudly, as close to snoring as Jim as ever heard him get.

He doesn’t have the heart to wake Spock yet. Jim gets dressed and makes himself another cup of coffee (glancing reflexively at Spock as he does so; it’s his second cup, and Spock has a tendency to get stern and try limiting him after the first one) and takes it out to the balcony. He enjoys the sight of the city in the distance, unique with its Vulcan architecture mixed with some distinctly foreign buildings. The sea is closer, and beautiful. Jim inhales the smell of the salty air blowing off of it and grins. This is the life.

Spock is still out when he goes back inside. Jim climbs onto the bed and tries to tug one side of the quilt from Spock’s grasp so that he can climb under. No dice; Spock isn’t giving it up. Jim tugs harder, and Spock _growls_ , holding the blanket tighter. 

Jim leans down, nuzzles Spock’s ear, and tries to sound seductive. “Wake up, sweetheart.” It’s ruined by him laughing right into Spock’s ear, thinking about Spock and the blanket and that honest to god growl. Vulcans, honestly.

Spock blinks awake, looking bleary and not pleased. “Jim, why have you awoken me by laughing directly into my ear?”

“I’m sorry, Spock,” Jim curls himself around Spock’s blanketed form and kisses him. Spock has morning breath, but that’s the kind of thing that stops bothering you after the first decade or so. “I was trying to wake you up in a nicer way, but you wouldn’t let me under the blanket with you. You growled at me!”

“Logical, if you were attempting to take the item keeping me warm. It is a survival mechanism, Jim,” Spock says. 

“Give me a break, it’s like a hundred degrees outside. You don’t need to be kept warm. Now get up, we’re going hiking today.” Jim bounces off the bed (as much of a bounce as he can do at his age, and with the good mood he’s in, it’s a fair approximation.) and goes to the closet.

Spock sits up, bare and ruffled, and watches Jim as he prepares Spock a cup of tea and gathers clothes for him to wear.

He accepts the tea, but looks doubtful about the jeans and shirt Jim offers him. "I intend to wear one of my robes."

"To go _hiking_? Spock, you'll trip over the bottom of your robe."

"I would not be so ungainly," Spock protests.

Jim thinks about how awkward Spock was in their youth, about how indulgent he's gotten in his old age, becoming accustomed to not wearing constricting uniforms and instead light, breezy robes, and can't help but start laughing.

Then he thinks of how Spock customarily doesn't wear anything under his robes and how convenient that is, and his thoughts take a new turn.

"If you follow through on that thought, we will never get out of the hotel in time to go hiking."

"Tonight, sweetheart," Jim promises, sending a graphic promise of what is in store through the bond, making Spock's eyebrow arch.

 _Very enticing, Jim, but I suggest more use of your tongue_ , he responds.

Spock capitulates somewhat with Jim and opts for a Vulcan style tunic and loose pants, but only after Jim allows Spock to slather him in sunscreen.

"Spock, I look like I've been wrestling in oil, this is ridiculous." Jim grimaces down at his greasy arms. "SPF 100, really? Did you have to cake me in it?"

"I will not have you damaged, Jim. Our sun is intense to your fragile skin." Spock produces an enormous sunhat and settles it on Jim's head.

"I was out swimming just yesterday!" Jim tugs at the hat, but doesn't remove it. How did Spock pack this without him noticing?

"The sun was setting." Spock hypos Jim with some tri-ox, and then steps back and nods. "We may go."

The trail winds over the cliffs and down into a valley filled with the scent of the sea. Jim is grateful for the hat; it blocks the glare of the sun, which as Spock said, is intense. By the time they ascend out of the valley and pause on a remote clifftop, Jim is sweating heavily. Beside him, Spock is looking completely nonchalant.

Lucky Vulcan, not having any sweatglands.

Spock removes a bottle of water from his bag and hands it to Jim, who drinks without argument. They set off again, Jim occasionally peering up at the sky, pushing the hat up a little to see better. Strange Vulcan animals, their versions of birds. Closer to reptiles than Earth birds. Still covered in scales. The first time Jim saw one land and then burrow its way into the sand, he got a shock. That was years ago, of course, back on his second visit to Vulcan. After the five year mission, when they’d gone to formally announce their bonding to Spock’s parents.

Jim remembers his sweaty hands, Amanda’s gasp of delight, Sarek’s stern frown and informing of them that he was going to hold a formal celebration for them, and they _would_ be inviting their friends and Jim’s family, and allowing him to pay for it all.

So young, they were so young then. Jim glances at Spock, keeping pace effortlessly beside him. Jim’s breathing is getting labored. He isn’t sure how far they’ve come. A long way. It’s so hot. Jim tugs at the collar of his shirt, gets the water bottle and takes another drink. Spock’s gentle hands tug him to a stop.

"You are not feeling faint, are you?"

"No, Spock. I'm fine."

Spock peers at Jim's red face. "Are you certain? Maybe we should return to the hotel."

"I'm fine!" Spock doesn't look convinced. "Seriously, stop worrying."

"I am not able to. You are no longer young, Jim. I do wish you would keep your age in mind. You have already had more physical activity today than most men your age." Spock draws Jim close, cups his face and kisses him, despite the fact that Jim is dripping sweat. "I do not wish you to injure yourself. You must take care of yourself, Jim. You must allow _me_ to take care of you."

"Spock...."

"I will already have so many years without you," Spock whispers the words into his hair. "Do not make me endure that any sooner than I must."

And just like that, Jim is blinking back tears, despite the fact that it's the middle of the day on a hiking trail on Vulcan. Ludicrous.

He wraps his arms around Spock and squeezes him tight, until Jim regains his composure. "I want to come back out later, when it's a little cooler."

"Yes."

"And we're going to bring a picnic dinner." 

"Acceptable."

"And then we're going to make love under the stars."

"Perhaps. If we can find a sufficiently secluded location."

Spock's voice is still a little hoarse, his hands gripping Jim's shoulders too tight. He searches every inch of Jim's face with his eyes, memorizing him for the day he'll be left all alone.

Vulcans have an eidetic memory. Spock will never forget a single second he's spent with Jim.

Jim doesn't know if that makes it better or worse. If you can never forget, how can you heal?

He takes Spock's hand in his and rubs a circle on Spock's palm with this thumb. "Let's go back to our hotel. Didn't you want to get a better look at that instrument?"

"If by instrument you mean the lyre that was played upon the occasion of the first Federation meeting on Vulcan soil, then yes." Spock squeezes Jim's hand, lets himself be led away down the trail.

They come back later with a dinner that Jim packed. He presents Spock with a bottle of chocolate liqueur and laughs delightedly at his expression, then opens the bottle of wine he brought for himself.

Even later, both of them pleasantly tipsy from the drinks, Spock leads Jim to a shallow cave. On the blanket that they brought, they lay together and Jim presses kisses to every inch of Spock's body.

 _I'm here_ , he's saying without words, with his kisses and his heart and his hands in Spock's. _I'm here, now, with you. We have now, and we have tomorrow, and as much time as we can._

He's probably whispering it through the bond, too, and when Spock comes it's with a noise like a sob, Jim clutched tight to his body with his legs.

*

"I do not see the need for this item."

"No? You don't think it would be fun for me to play with you with it? Or you could watch me with it."

"Hm."

"I knew it. I know what you're thinking, literally. We're buying it."

"Very well. But not that one."

"Why not?"

"I find the bright orange color rather....disturbing."

"Fine. We'll get the green one. More like my favorite piece of equipment anyway."

"Jim!!!"

"Something wrong?"

"Lower your voice. This may a shop for sexual aids, but we are still in public."

"Okay, sorry. It's so easy to get carried away, I look at this stuff and I can see so clearly what I'd like to do with you, what I'd love to try."

"You are broadcasting your intentions quite clearly. It is distracting."

"Then you know what I'd like to do with these."

"I do not think I would find nipple clamps pleasurable."

"No? But you're so sensitive. Okay. A no on that one. How about this?"

"We have already selected an imitation penis."

"Yes, but this one _vibrates_."

"Indeed? Very well. We will get both."

*

Jim goes rock climbing. Spock is still overprotective and reluctant to let him, but he acquiesces when Jim hands him the hover boots he packed.

Satisfied that he can swoop in if Jim should slip, Spock settles down at the base of the cliff with a portable teapot and his padd, loaded with books and essays.

Jim clambers up the rock face, delirious with happiness, feeling like he's shed thirty years. There’s nothing quite like this, hanging suspended with nothing but his own strength keeping him from plummeting to the ground.

When he reaches a ledge broad enough for him to sit, he sits down and stretches his arms and legs gratefully. He’s sipping his electrolyte-enhanced water (Spock insisted) when he hears rocks clattering down the cliff face above and to his right.

Jim puts his bottle back on his belt and turns to peer up the cliff face. He’s about half way up, and he sees a vague shape scamper down the cliff face like it's perfectly horizontal instead of vertical. When the creature gets to a ledge just a little higher than Jim's, he realizes suddenly what it is.

It's a baby sehlat.

Jim has only ever seen pictures of _grown_ sehlats, but that must be what this is. The teddy bear like face, the fangs. It may be a baby, but it's three feet tall, incredibly fluffy, and has fangs as long as Jim's thumb.

It's the cutest thing he's ever seen on Vulcan, aside from baby pictures of Spock.

It sits down on its ledge and blinks, then yawns. It doesn't so much as glance at Jim, even when he leans forward and waves frantically, trying to get Spock's attention.

It doesn't work, and Jim wants to smack himself for his foolishness. _Spock_ , he shouts through the bond.

Spock glances up immediately, and appears puzzled when he sees Jim isn't in mortal peril. _Are you stuck, t'hy'la?_

_No. There's a baby sehlat up here._

Spock activates the hover boots so fast Jim might be offended if he wasn't busy making kissy noises at the sehlat, trying to coax it over to him.

It ignores him.

Spock settles on the ledge beside Jim and speaks to it softly in Vulcan.

Jim grins. What Spock is saying to it translates essentially to, "Come here, little soft one."

The sehlat leaps from its spot to theirs and crowds up against Spock, sniffing him curiously and then allowing him to scratch its ear.

Jim tries to lean across Spock and pet it. It glares at him, arches its back and opens its mouth to growl--

And it _meeps_ instead.

He cracks up as soon as he hears it squeak. In return, it gives him the most offended look he's ever seen.

"Do not mock it, Jim," Spock scolds him.

"I'm not going to damage its self confidence, Spock. I just, my god. It was trying to look so fierce, and that was so cute."

"Jim--"

It meeps at him again, and he laughs harder.

Until the eardrum shattering roar from overhead shuts him up.

The sehlat meeps in satisfaction, lets Spock get in one last ear scratch, then scampers up the cliff face.

Jim clears his throat. "That was mommy, I'm assuming."

"Correct. Sehlats, even wild ones, are familiar enough with Vulcans to not consider us a threat. However, they are generally unfamiliar with the sound of laughter, and would possibly consider it threatening."

Right. Of course Spock has a logical explanation for this.

He slips an arm around Spock's waist and rests his head on his husband's shoulder. "Tell you what, cuddle with me for a minute before I keep climbing. Give our furry friends time to move on."

Spock strokes Jim's hair. He doesn't say anything, but Jim feels Spock purring in contentment under his cheek.

*

On the transport home, Jim finally dares to check his Academy email, and sighs loudly when he sees the amount of messages he has, mostly students pleading for more time on their final term papers.

Spock, sitting across from him and also working on his padd, glances up at the noise. “Jim?”

“Just facing the fact that it’s back to real life and our responsibilities now.” Jim lowers his device and thinks about the lazy, sun soaked days spent making love with Spock and relaxing. “I’m going to miss it.”

“As will I, but I do not believe you would be content to live that way permanently. You would miss your job.”

“Maybe so. I really loved having more time with you, though.” Jim takes Spock’s hand across the table, rubs his thumb over Spock’s knuckles. “That was nice.”

Spock is quiet for a minute. “Just because we are returning to San Francisco does not mean we cannot take more time for ourselves. We can reduce our working hours, if you wish.”

As much as they exasperate him, Jim does care for his students, and the knowledge that he’s helping to train and influence Starfleet’s next generation of captains. It’s important to him, and he doesn’t want to give it up, but he’s also frequently tired and overworked.

It wouldn’t hurt to drop his workdays to only one or two a week. Maybe do most or all of it over the net. They don’t need the money. Starfleet would ensure they were taken care of even if they didn’t work at all.

“That’s a good idea,” Jim says finally. “Let’s work less, sweetheart, spend more time together and with our friends. Do more traveling.”

Spock twinkles at him. “I was planning to save this for our anniversary, but perhaps now is the right time to tell you.”

“Tell me? What did you do, Spock?”

“I consulted with the good doctor and gained possession of a cabin in Iowa. I believed that it would be something you would enjoy, particularly in the winter. You often rhapsodize about your childhood experiences, making mentions of snowy days and fireplaces. In addition, your enthusiasm for camping--”

Jim almost climbs over the table in an effort to get to Spock and kiss him senseless. “You bought me a _cabin?_ Spock!!”

Spock nudges the button that retracts the table into the wall, then pulls Jim into his lap and returns the kiss with enthusiasm. Jim chases after his mouth when he pulls back to inquire, “Are we retiring?”

“Mm. Dunno. Figure it out later.” Jim threads his fingers into Spock’s greying hair and tries to draw him back into the kiss.

“I believe I should warn you that Leonard has already informed me that he will be coming to visit us at our cabin this winter.”

“Bones can come if he wants, as long as he doesn’t complain when I cuddle up naked with you on a synthetic fur rug in front of the fireplace.”

“His words were, and I quote, “No hanky panky in front of me, dammit, or I’ll cook up something to kill y’all’s libido for good.””

“Our cabin, our rules.”

“Very wise.” Spock finally lets Jim kiss him again.

Jim can already hear the angry Southern yelling in his head, and it’s delightful. So is the prospect of a rustic cabin in the woods, walks in the snow with his favorite Vulcan, and then getting him all warmed up back inside.

There’s so much to look forward to.

**Author's Note:**

> Terpauk means sticky in Vulcan. Couldn't think of anything else to call my starfish monster, haha.


End file.
